


Why John Watson?

by johnfuxkslarry



Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, Drug Addiction, Drug Use, M/M, Post-Canon, Post-His Last Vow, Self-Hatred, Sherlock Whump, Unrequited Love
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-08-12
Updated: 2015-08-11
Packaged: 2018-04-14 06:57:00
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 934
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4555080
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/johnfuxkslarry/pseuds/johnfuxkslarry
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sherlock Holmes is forced to face his feelings for John Watson.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Why John Watson?

John Watson is definitely in danger and Sherlock Holmes is well aware of this fact. In reality, John Watson has been in danger since the very second he met Sherlock Holmes, and, again, Sherlock knows this. What is it that (selfishly) drives him back, time and time again, to the military doctor? A need for the (somewhat) wholesome companionship the good doctor provides? Is it because there’s no one else willing to take care of Sherlock? Feed him? Force him to sleep? Help pay his rent? Sherlock supposes that Mycroft would do all of these things, if necessary, but then again, Mycroft’s bedside manner has always been atrocious.

 

So what exactly is it that imperceptibly pushes him towards John Watson? It’s not the bad telly, or the occasional nagging. It’s most definitely not the way he looks at Sherlock sometimes (out of the corner of his eye, of course); worried sick, annoyed, and in disbelief that he continues to put up with the childish detective. There is one reason that Sherlock has not considered, _refuses_ to consider, that makes his stomach roil and his eyes brim with hot, stinging tears. No, he won’t consider that option, not yet, no matter how true it may be. It’s the work that matters- the cases where he can unravel the puzzle with (occasionally indelicate) precision and the exhilarating adrenaline high after he’s just tackled a suspect in a grimy alleyway. Yet, deep down, the question still remains, _why John Watson?_ (And the answer makes Sherlock feel ill.)

 

There are very few words left to be said. They both understand what occurred and why it occurred. Or rather, they both possess their own version of Sherlock’s motive. John’s; his best friend, murdered Charles Augustus Magnussen in order to save John and his not-yet-born child, in order to prevent John another lifetime worth of grief and in order to keep John’s criminal record (seemingly) clean. Sherlock’s; he murdered Charles Augustus Magnussen in order to save John and his not-yet-born child, in order to prevent John another lifetime worth of grief and in order to keep John’s criminal record (seemingly) clean. Out of ****. Out of the fact that no matter where John Watson goes, who he marries, when he leaves Sherlock for good; Sherlock will follow, hell or high water. Out the improbability, that maybe, just maybe, John Watson feels the same for Sherlock Holmes (not that Sherlock feels anything for John, and definitely not because he ***** him).

 

“Is this the time?” Sherlock thinks. He will die in Serbia, no doubt. Will a confession of some sort of feeling (other than that of friendship), change his reality? Will it make John **** him? The words slip out of Sherlock’s mouth, shameful and broken. “John, there’s something… I should say; I-I’ve meant to say always and then never have. Since it’s unlikely we’ll ever meet again, I might as well say it now.” Sherlock breathes deeply now and considers his options (as always).

 

What if his (supposed) feelings for John are just another creation of his mind, a way to stay sane, a way to focus on the goal ( _what goal?_ ), a way to convince himself that he has, at least, a small shred of humanity in him? Maybe they’re a way to convince himself that they were wrong. (All those _damned_ doctors and psychologists and Mycroft, _who glares at Sherlock as though he’s a disgrace to the Holmes name_ , and to Mummy and Daddy _who_ _**always, always** knew that Sherlock couldn’t feel-wouldn’t feel and the way that Mummy always turned away when he.. when he-  **SHUT UP!**_ Oh God.) How can he be so wretchedly wrong? How dare he once again nearly impose on John’s life?

 

“Sherlock is actually a girl’s name,” and John, the wonderful, wonderful man he is, giggles. (At least Sherlock’s final memory of him will be something favourable- the way his eyes crinkle, and how his lips turn up, just so, at the corner of his mouth, and- **focus. Focus.** ) “It’s not,” John smile is nearly incandescent now. Sherlock shrugs, “It was worth a try,” (take it John. Take my name, you have all of me already, take what remains.)

 

“We’re not naming our daughter after you.” “I think it could work,” (what could work? Oh many, many things. In a distant, yet parallel, universe. It could work.) Sherlock holds out his hand and John shakes it reverently. “To the very best of times, John,” Sherlock turns and begins to board the plane, trying not to turn his head back for a final glance of the enigma of John Watson.

 

The seats are cold and the window fogs with Sherlock’s breath. This is it. The final goodbye. (Does John know that he won’t be returning, except, perhaps, in an unmarked wooden box? Would he care, after all the trouble Sherlock’s caused him?) As the aircraft rises, he spots John and Mary on the pavement below, holding hands and watching as Sherlock flies, far from them and far his battlefield of London. To Sherlock, they become smaller and smaller, until they are infinitesimal (in every sense of the word).

 

(The answer to the great question is now evident to him. Why John Watson? Because John Watson tolerates him, because he wishes the best for Sherlock, because he forces Sherlock to eat and sleep, because they complement each other and most importantly, because he loves him. Yes, L-O-V-E. It could possibly be a figment of Sherlock’s imagination, but it sure as hell doesn’t feel like it. This no longer makes Sherlock feel ill. No. It makes him absolutely _miserable._ )

**Author's Note:**

> Hey guys! I'm crap at writing summaries but I'm going to be continuing this in the next chapter. Enjoy!


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